


Robin

by grayorca, YearwalktheWorld



Series: Skynet: Red [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Wings, CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60 Has a Different Name, Drama, Fluff, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-30 05:14:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18308903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayorca/pseuds/grayorca, https://archiveofourown.org/users/YearwalktheWorld/pseuds/YearwalktheWorld
Summary: Wings AU. There’s always one.





	Robin

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place after _Us, Ourselves, And We_.
> 
> Too much to go into in just a few sentences. See our other series for context. We’ve got more ideas than we know what to do with.
> 
> Faceclaim:  
> Jacklyn... Maisie Williams (Game Of Thrones)
> 
> #whocares

As if his lookalikes weren’t being embarrassments enough by themselves, chasing from from Downtown back to Brightmoor via a hectic, erratically zigzagging flight path, it seemed he was doomed to endure one more’s company. He knew he got off too easy when the other RKs gave up the pursuit, climbing away to disappear into the clouds. The face to greet him on the other side of the landing ledge door was almost as unwelcome.

Almost.

Suited up in her tan-and-black cargo-bearing flight gear, magpie wings hiked and ready to go, hands grasping the straps hanging over her shoulders, the GT300 known as Jacklyn instantly perked up. Meeting him on the threshold didn’t seem to surprise her - unfortunately. Her blue-gray eyes only lit up in excitement.

Apparently he was something of a new favorite in her book.

“Hey, Red. You went out early?”

“...Yes.” Trying to leave it at that, he stepped aside to allow her to move by. He knew there was the slightest chance she would actually let him enter and withdraw to whatever quiet corner he could find to preen in peace - might as well make an attempt towards that. “I'll be going inside, now.”

Tilting her head, black braided locks swaying with the motion, ‘Jack’ didn’t budge. “Who’d you lose a race to?”

“I didn't - there was no race. Don't concern yourself with it.” Or, in other words, stop talking to me. Not that Jack would, but perhaps one of these days she would oblige him. Hand trailing up toward his hair, which Red was sure was quite disorderly, he forced it back down with a second thought. “I am going inside, now.”

Provided she took the hint and got out of the way.

Which of course she didn’t. Her once-blue LED went yellow, then spun back to blue. “Someone tagged ya. I can tell.” Motioning at the back of her own head, she smirked. “You’re sporting a new antenna there.”

“I can take care of it… _inside._ And, it wasn't my idea to play any childish games with anyone. I can't help if others won't let me leave in peace.” Including Jack, sometimes. Or most of the time, if Red was being honest. She was a little firecracker of a courier. But at least she was nicer and easier to deal with than most other androids he knew. “Please, let me inside.”

Frowning, she didn’t so much step aside as move a few paces back. Unfortunately, the depot’s upper level was completely devoid of other androids at the moment. He could have used one or two for a convenient distraction, asked them to tell her to get back to wherever she was headed.

No such luck.

“...That good?”

“...Fine.” Almost grumbling, but not quite - he wasn't childish enough to do any sulking when it came to such tasks - Red took a few steps forward, trying to inch his way inside the best he could. Was it too much to ask for, to have the rest of the day to mull over the advice he was given, and try to preen the rest of his wings? “Please, I'm not - I understand you want to talk, but I don't feel up to it now, Jack.”

Agh. There was the damn head tilt again. Ever contrary as she was, the shorter android sidestepped away to give him room, only to blind back over to his side like there was an invisible bungee cord between them.

“Why? What happened?”

“Nothing happened. I just don't want to talk, is that not allowed?” Red didn't bother to try and make her leave him alone, merely continued his path to try and find a quiet alcove or the likes. Perhaps if he humored her right now, she would be more apt to leave, and quicker.  “...I sought advice I most likely didn't need. I'm not bothered, I would just rather be left alone now.”

The elevator down to the dormitory floor was looking very good all of a sudden.

Half circling him, crabbing one way, then the next, Jack did her best to stay in his field of view. And just as he thought he managed to weave aside, she did one better - ducking through the space between his wing and hip.

Little minx that she was, setting herself up to be tripped over, it almost happened.

“Jack - don't!” Catching himself at the last minute, Red barked the order out as one hand went out to brace against the wall. Letting out a hiss - almost staticky, but not quite, at least not yet - he stared down at her, almost in shock. “What do you want? I've told you what happened. What more do you need to know?”

Face scrunching up, she mustered up her most intimidating glare, black-and-white feathers puffed out. At least she held back from clinging onto his sleeve. “What did you go out for advice for? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong, don't concern yourself. I sought advice for personal reasons.” Red could admit, it was almost half charming, seeing her attempt to intimidate _him_ into speaking, as if it would actually work. He wasn't Nicholas - it would take more than that to scare him, and then some. “Nothing too detrimental. Are you satisfied, now?”

“No.”

Direct.

Bouncing on the heels of her feet, she chances a sideways look at the elevator button - still some six feet away. “Did it work? Did they tell you what you wanted to hear?”

Just the opposite, actually. And now here Jack was, flagrantly disrespecting his desire for privacy. She could get away with such pestering, being Miss Torrance’s namesake and favorite model. The rest of the Overclocked flock seemed to humor it.

Who was he to do different?

“...No. They gave me advice I didn't like, but…” Trailing off with a shrug, Red considered his next words. Were Connor and Noah right, with what they told him? Even if it wasn't what he wanted to hear? He hated to think they were in the right. It meant he was just the opposite. “They may be right. I'm considering what they said.”

“And then they chased you back here,” Jacklyn gave a harrumph to that effect, crossing her arms, bracelets snagging together as she did. “I saw through the windows. You almost crash-landed ‘cause of Nines.”

Oh, that parting moment of being sideswept by the RK900 as he tried to get his feet underneath him, only to overcorrect and tumble to a stop?

(By his definition - not a crash. A tumble.)

Well. Technically, Red had almost gotten them decommissioned at one time.

“Needless to say, I won't be returning to them for any more advice.” Attempting to turn the conversation away from his almost-crash, Red raised an eyebrow at her, attempting to sidestep around. “Is there anything more you wanted? You know the full story now.”

“Do you need help with these?” Grabbing a handful of secondaries (that is, all two-and-a-half quills she could hold), Jack ran a fingertip across the clumped-up barbs. “They have dirt stuck to them.”

Dirt. That was birdroid-speak for “unmentionable substance”. They couldn’t lose hair or shed skin cells as humans did. But hygiene was still a concept most civilized models would appreciate.

Right now, Jack had her nose wrinkled in disgust.

Red started forward, attempting to try and get his feathers out of her hands without forcing her off of him. If she didn't listen, though, he wouldn't have any problem with physically removing her from them. “No, I don't need your assistance, Jacklyn, please, let go.”

Her grip went even tighter. She disliked being called her full name.

“Make me.”

Oh, no mistaking it - that was a dare. And he had been humiliated one too many times to to not answer to it.

“Very well.”

——-

_Ten minutes later_

——-

Admittedly, this was the best kind of defeat. The only gloating being done was nonverbal. Using a quill comb and her own coating reserves, the GT300 worked meticulously, from one wing to the other. The bench facing the flight suit lockers made for a decent perch. Balancing on the edge like it was no great effort, Jacklyn paused only as another staticky growl went up.

Involuntary as the noise was on his part, it communicated his reaction just fine.

_“Mmmhrrr…”_

“Did that hurt?”

“Mh - No…” Red mumbled, almost sullenly. As much as he was silently appreciating this, it was still another defeat, following so closely after an impromptu chase scene that left him barely able to land. Suffice to say, he didn't feel amazing about it.

But this was a step closer to feeling better, as administered by an unwanted sidekick, whether he admitted it or not.

To his dismay/pleasure, she only resumed brushing. Her eyes trained themselves on the weave of red-brown feathers, screening for any lingering impurities. Her tiny fingers were better suited to the task, and in that hard-to-reach place right between his shoulders, especially.

Damn it.

Why did Connor and Noah have to be right?

It was inconveniently convenient.


End file.
